I Can Make You Feel Real Good
by Vsquared-k
Summary: Quinn finds out Rachel has the magic touch, and keeps coming back for more. Non-established Faberry, Rated for later chapters.
1. The Initiation

**Title:** I can make you feel real good (1/?)  
**Rating:** PG (this one) / NC-17 (whole fic)  
**Length:** 2000+  
**Spoilers:** Duets? Let's just say NBK...  
**Summary:** Based on this prompt:  
_Quinn and Rachel not quite friends - Quinn finishes cheerleading practice one day with very tight muscles. Rachel gives her a surprisingly amazing massage. Quinn then seeks Rachel out for massages which get more and more heated._  
**Pairings:** Eventual Faberry, with mentions of Fabrevans and Finchel

Also posted on my livejournal. I'm vsquared_k. If you want to, find me... It's easier to do edits on livejournal as opposed to here, so I may be posting unedited versions of my stories up at the same time as sending it to my editor... I then edit accordingly once he sends it back, and post it here. Just saying. It might happen!

_Note: In this fic, Quinn is slightly thixophobic, aka she has a fear of human contact, specifically of touching people of the opposite gender. She just doesn't know that yet..._

**\o/**

Quinn Fabray stepped slowly out of the shower in the Cheerios locker room after practice, and rubbed at a crick in her neck. There had been something odd in the routine today, though she wasn't sure what, but there had been a lot of unwarranted strain on her shoulders and neck when the girls had thrown her up onto the pyramid earlier.

Sue Sylvester had called them sloppy and dismissed them early (which was incredibly rare), stopping Quinn, because she had something important to tell her.

This meant that the showers were all occupied when she got into the locker room, and by the time she could take her shower, the water was cold, and had done nothing in aiding her muscles in loosening up. She was already formulating a plan so she could get a nice massage from Sam. Maybe she could say something about how massaging her was touching her in places he didn't usually get to touch, or something. She smiled, and pulled on a t-shirt; she was certain that this approach would work on the boy. She just hoped he didn't want her to reciprocate, because she hated giving massages. Something about touching people grossed her out a little. It was usually okay to a point, but after that... She shuddered just thinking about it!

With her hair down and still wet (no one was at school this late, usually, so she didn't have to care about appearances), she shouldered her Cheerios bag, wincing as the strap dug into her shoulder. She hadn't really noticed just how sore she was until that point, and made it a priority to find Sam as soon as she got out of the school.

The hallway was as deserted as usual... well, save for Rachel Berry standing at her open locker, texting. In order to leave the school as quickly as possible, Quinn would have to walk by the petite diva and risk the awkward and long conversation that would inevitably occur if the other girl noticed her walking by. She wasn't in the mood to be snarky and cruel, just wanting to relax, but getting out was important, and the all the other ways out of the school and to her car took at least an extra five minutes. That was five minutes she couldn't spare, so she decided to chance it, and started walking down the hall.

It was just her luck that just as she reached Rachel's locker area, the diva closed her locker and noticed her. "Hi, Quinn!" Quinn nodded at her to acknowledge her fellow glee clubber's existence, and continued her brisk pace towards the door. To her chagrin, Rachel followed at the same pace. "Are you just heading home from Cheerio's practice?" Without waiting for Quinn to respond, Rachel forged onwards. "I was in the auditorium practicing my scales and runs. You know, basics are important, Quinn... maybe we should practice singing scales in Glee club; I'll have to suggest it to Mr. Shuester. Anyway, I was waiting for my dad to call and say he was on his way to pick me up, but for some reason, he can't make it today. He texted me to say that there has been some sort of emergency at his work, and I was afraid I would have to walk home, or worse, take public transit, so it is absolutely wonderful that you're still here! I was wondering if it would be at all possible for you to drive me home... I'll be sure to repay you with a batch of my famous Thank You cookies, if you would." Rachel took a deep breath, and smiled hopefully at the blonde.

Quinn stopped at her car, and turned to the hopeful brunette with her lips pursed in thought. Rachel had mentioned repaying her for a ride home... and with Coach Sylvester's weigh-in looming on the horizon, she knew she couldn't indulge in the cookies, despite knowing how delicious they were (They were, after all, famous for a reason). However, she was incredibly sore, and if Rachel gave her a massage instead, she wouldn't have to risk the possibility of touching Sam any more than she needed to.

She unlocked her car, and turned to the girl, "Make it a massage, and you've got yourself a deal, Berry." Rachel threw her bag into the back seat, and grinned at the other girl. "Do you have to go home right away...? or..." The diva shook her head, and Quinn relaxed a little, pulling out of the parking lot. "Okay, so, uh... How about we go back to my place first, for the massage, then I'll take you back to your place."

"That sounds like a good plan... Did you hurt yourself during Cheerios practice? Because, you know, if you pulled a muscle, you really shouldn't massage it until a couple days later. It would be better to just leave a hot compress on it a couple hours for the next three days, then going for–"

"Shut!"

Rachel's mouth snapped closed instantly, eyes widening at the single biting word out of the blonde's mouth.

Quinn quickly glanced over apologetically. "Sorry... it's just, well, I just got my license a month ago, and I still need to focus on the road or whatever." Rachel nodded understandingly, relaxed slightly, and, thankfully, kept her mouth shut. "Anyway, no, no pulled muscle... just stiff shoulders. The usual, I guess." Out of the corner of her eye, she saw Rachel nod understandingly. The silence in the car was suffocatingly awkward, so at the next set of lights, Quinn turned on the radio, switching to a channel that wasn't continually playing commercials. Rachel smiled at the gesture, and sang softly along with whatever songs she knew for the rest of the ride, though never really loud enough to distract the blonde from her driving.

Pulling into her driveway, Quinn was surprised to see that her mother wasn't home. Quinn figured she was probably out with her socialite friends, and thus wouldn't be home until much later that night, meaning she was left alone to deal with supper. Again. She was getting tired of take out, really, but she wasn't tired enough to learn to cook just yet. "Here we are," she said, turning to the brunette next to her. "Just... before you go in, I want you to understand that... just... don't touch anything. My mom doesn't like people contaminating her stuff." Rachel looked bewildered and slightly hurt, but nodded, confused. Just as the girl opened her mouth to say something, Quinn opened her door and got out of the car, slamming her door on whatever Rachel was going to say. Her mother was more than slightly anal about things being in proper places, and people touching things. Quinn knew that her mom would know that someone had touched her precious collectibles if she didn't warn Rachel first.

Once in the door, Quinn set her Cheerios bag in the designated gym bag spot, hung her key ring on her designated key hook, and walked up to her room to put her backpack on the floor of her room somewhere. She then walked back down to the foyer, having forgotten to tell Rachel to follow her. Rachel was standing stock still in the foyer, obviously stunned by the vast amount of... expensive stuff in the Fabray home.

"You want something to drink?" Rachel nodded, following Quinn into the kitchen. Quinn pulled out a bottle of lime-ade from the fridge. "This okay?" Rachel nodded again, holding her bag to her chest. Quinn poured two glasses, grabbed an un-open box of wheat thins (the only vegan thing in the entire house, besides slightly spoiled fruit), and trudged back up the stairs, indicating Rachel follow her.

"So..." Rachel started once in Quinn's room. Quinn cocked an eyebrow. "How was practice?" Oh, Rachel Berry was attempting small talk, how incredibly cute!

Quinn took a sip of her limeade to hide her smirk.

"I'm going to assume it wasn't as good as it usually is, because your shoulders are now in need of a massage, and–"

"Yeah, it wasn't the best, but... well, it's always like this with Coach Sylvester. You get kind of used to it, I guess." Rachel nodded, and nibbled on a wheat thin. "Oh, and, uh... you can touch stuff in this room... my mom just has this thing against people touching her stuff. She's a little OCD that way."

"Oh... alright. I was wondering, since it seemed a little odd that you would mention contamination... I thought maybe it was the gay germs that are inevitably on me from me having two gay dads." Quinn shook her head, and chuckled.

The silence that fell over them wasn't as awkward as it was previously in the car, but she still felt like it'd need some filling, so she plugged her iPod into her computer speakers, and put it on shuffle. "Sorry I don't have all that many show tunes..."

Rachel shook her head and smiled slightly at the gesture, "My musical tastes are much more varied than sticking to musical soundtracks and the like... If you'll remember, I was singing Paramore a couple weeks ago, and I've never had any trouble singing whatever modern songs Mr Shuester chooses for our repertoire."

Quinn nodded absently, drained her glass, and jumped onto her computer chair, back to her front. "Whenever you're ready, then." Rachel looked up at her quizzically. "For the massage, Berry. It's why you're here, and why I'm bearing your company, remember?"

"Oh, right. Okay." Rachel quickly finished her wheat thin and limeade, and walked behind the blonde cheerleader. The hands that started rubbing Quinn's shoulders were hesitant and barely there, and Quinn suppressed a groan of frustration. "So... uh, where is it sore?"

Quinn rolled her eyes. "Have you never given a shoulder massage before, Manhands?"

"Well, yes, I have, but never to a girl. I give my fathers backrubs and massages all the time, because they always forget to stretch before partaking in physical activity. I'm just afraid that I may use too much force, and hurt you in the process. My father claims that my massages are better than those of our paid massage therapist."

"Well, you're doing nothing for me now! I need you to go harder... I'm sure that with all your amazing skills and experience, you'll be able to tell **me** where it hurts." She didn't hear any response from Rachel. Instead, she felt Rachel's thumbs slowly kneading at the point where her shoulders and neck met. Damn, she _**was**_ good at this... Quinn let out a hum of contentment, and relaxed her posture completely, feeling the relaxing effects of Rachel's massage. Rachel's fingers hit just the right spot with just the right amount of pressure, and she completely melted.

A couple minutes into the massage, Rachel reached down and pushed Quinn's lower back forward. "Don't slouch," she said, simply continuing her slow massage. Quinn's shoulders felt like they were on fire, in a good way, and she purred under her breath, only to have her breath catch in her throat and shoulders tense when Rachel found a particularly painful spot. "My God, you have the most horrendous knots!" Quinn nodded... cheerleading could do that to a person. "You're also incredibly tight." Rachel's hand brushed Quinn's hair off her neck, and started working her neck, squeezing both sides with just the right amount of pressure. "You should relax more. Also, the whole wet hair thing? It has to stop, because that'll cause more knots to start forming in your shoulders." There was a pause, during which Quinn's eyes fluttered shut again in contentment. "Is this good?"

"Mmmmmmm... very, Berry." Rachel let out a small giggle and eyeroll at Quinn's accidental (albeit lame) rhyme, but didn't stop her ministrations. "In fact, it's marvelous." Rachel went back to Quinn's shoulders, working slowly out from the neck towards her upper arms. Quinn let out a quiet moan, "My God, you're good at this. I think I might have to give you rides more often..."

Rachel chuckled at this as she started softly pounding up and down Quinn's back. "That would be wonderful, I think... It'd save my father some time, and perhaps, if it becomes a regular thing, we can do our homework together?"

"Sounds like a plan... Oh my God, I sound like a motorboat!" Quinn started singing a random note, as Rachel continued to pound on Quinn's back.

Rachel laughed, shaking her head. She'd never seen the head cheerleader acting so childish before. "Maybe next time, we'll work on those knots, but for today, I just want you to relax, maybe just work out the surface soreness, before it settles and hardens the babies you have in your back. They're incredibly large knots, you know, and they're pretty deep, too."

Quinn didn't doubt it, since Rachel definitely seemed to know what she was talking about. The diva had switched back to kneading with her thumbs, but was working her way down her sides to her lower back. She let out a groan when Rachel found a particular spot by her hips. "I didn't even know I was sore there," she said softly.

"I presume it's leftover from your pregnancy... Actually, I presume most of your knots are leftover from your pregnancy. The change in posture and the extra weight most likely wreaked havoc on your muscles... and did you have an epidural?" Quinn nodded. "Well, I read somewhere that the place where you get an epidural will, for some reason, constantly be sore." Rachel slowed her hands, then patted Quinn on the shoulders. "That should do for now! How do you feel?"

"Amazing. You have, like, magic fingers or something." Quinn swiveled in her chair to see Rachel blushing at the compliment. She muttered a thank you. "No, seriously, if you decide Broadway's not for you, I'll pay you to give me daily massages!" Rachel smirked, and moved to let Quinn out of her chair.

"Well, I guess I should be going home now..." Quinn cocked an eyebrow, then remembered that she'd only gotten Rachel to give her a massage because she'd promised a ride home.

"Right..." They both went downstairs, and she grabbed her keys before blurting, "Do you want to stay for supper?" It surprised the both of them, and Quinn felt a slight blush on her cheeks. The verbal logorrhea probably had something to do with the relaxed and content state Rachel had left her in. Rachel was looking at her like she'd grown a third head (skipping the second one entirely), and Quinn fought the urge to laugh.

"You hate me..." Rachel said, warily.

Quinn nodded, "I do. Just... not as much anymore, after that massage. And, well..." She gestured at the house. "I'm alone in this freakishly... freakish place until my mom gets home at whenever she gets in. I have to call in take-out, but, well, it'd be nice to have some company. And that was a damn good massage, so I feel like just giving you a ride home wouldn't suffice." Rachel obviously didn't trust her, eyebrow raised in doubt.

Quinn sighed. "Look, I'll have you home in time for your nightly MySpace video, okay?"

Rachel brightened slightly at the mention of routine, and fished out her phone. "I just have to text both my fathers to notify them of my whereabouts." Her fingers flew over her bedazzled phone's numpad.

Quinn nodded. "Anything specific you'd like?" she asked, placing her keys back on the designated key hook.

"There's this Thai place..."

_TBC_

**\o/**

**A/N:** I love to give massages to people (I just hate hearing people complain about back pain), but I've never really received a satisfactory massage. Hopefully, I conveyed the awesomeness of Rachel's magic fingers to y'all. Also, in this universe, Rachel, like me, doesn't like to talk too much when giving massages, instead focusing on giving pleasure to the person being massaged. Pressure and stuff is important, and too much or too little can lead to discomfort. So, lots of concentration is involved with a good massage.

Apparently I give good massages. I'm pretty sure some people I know are only my friends because I give damn good ones... I've been told that I must teach boyfriends, significant others, and other people how to give good ones, and some of Quinn's responses are actual responses I've had from friends and classmates (and teachers). Especially the "I'll pay you if your life doesn't turn out as planned" bit.

I personally believe that a massage is a very sensual and beautiful thing that someone can give to another person... hopefully a kind of sensuality permeated in this piece. I tried, anyway.

**A/N2:** In case you can't tell, the heating up of the massages will be slow. Almost parabolic. Slow to begin with, then speeding up quickly near the end. I refuse to rush into things, just because it's a kink meme prompt.

**A/N3: **Batman is the coolest supereditor ever. I dare say that I might rethink his status in my mind, upping from hero-with-money to super hero, just because of the super-editing power that he totally has going on. (P.S. My editor is Mr. Albrecht Starkarm, but he's secretly Batman... Go look at his stuff)

_Next Chapter: Quinn is massaged by Rachel... Rachel starts working on knots. Oh, and things start heating up._


	2. Chemistry

**Disclaimer: I do not own**

* * *

When Quinn Fabray woke up one morning several weeks later, she was cursing. She was cursing for a multitude of reasons.

Firstly, it was morning, and she was clearly not a morning person. Secondly, she had morning Cheerios practice before school, so, unlike 95% of the student population of Lima, Ohio, she had to be up before the sun was. Thirdly, she could feel all sorts of stiffness settling in on her shoulders and back, and had been feeling it since Rachel's mind-blowing massage (she wasn't cursing the massage, just that the massage made her aware of just how stiff she normally was).

Lastly, and most importantly, she was cursing herself for not having the presence of mind to have asked for Rachel's number before. It wasn't like she could risk anyone at school hearing her ask Rachel for her number! She couldn't risk it, she was barely back on top as it was!

So she struggled through Cheerios morning practice, suffered through classes, and tried really hard not to glare a hole through Rachel during Glee club in a sad attempt to get her attention. Wasn't Berry supposed to be psychic? Weren't people supposed to be able to feel someone's gaze or something?

Brittany reached across Santana to tap her on the shoulder. "Did Rachel do something to you?" She whispered. Quinn shook her head, still glaring. Pay. Attention. To. Me. Manhands. Rachel shifted in her chair, uncrossing and recrossing her legs. "Why are you looking at her so much, then? Because it looks like you're trying to get her pregnant..."

Quinn whipped her head around, a comical amalgamation of confusion and shock on her face. "What?" She hissed, brow furrowed.

Santana leaned forward, blocking Brittany from view. "It's true. You look like you want in Treasure Trail's pants." The Latina smirked, "Something you're not telling us, Quinnie?"

"Ew. No. Just... no. And don't call me that; it's gross." A scowl flitted across her face, and she turned back to Mr. Shuester... well, Rachel. I. Need. A. Massage. Rachel. Berry. Pay. Attention. To. Me. Gawd!

Rachel quickly turned around and smiled widely at Quinn, before nodding subtly and turning back to Mr. Shuester. Wait, what? Quinn's befuddlement was getting a little out of hand.

About an hour later, Quinn walked out of the club room with Sam's arm around her waist. "You want to do something later tonight?"

She looked up at him, amused smile on her face. "By do something, you mean make out, right?" He smiled sheepishly, nodding, and she smirked at him, head swirling slightly. "Sorry, I have some plans tonight... some other time?" He squeezed her side lightly, and she tensed until his hand dropped off her waist. He voiced his agreement, then walked down a different hall to his locker. Quinn exhaled sharply, not completely aware that she had even held her breath before continuing to her own, stopping slightly short of it when she saw Rachel waiting for her there. "Manhands... nice of you to grace my locker with your presence."

Rachel smirked. "You need a massage, right?" Quinn nodded. "I need a ride today, as my parents are both busy. And I might possibly need help with chemistry."

Quinn chuckled, and opened her locker, rifling through it for her things. "Well, lucky for you I'm good at chemistry, then, right, Berry?"

"Lucky me!" Rachel stated, whirling her fingers in fake cheer, before stopping short. "Hey, I should totally try out for the Cheerios. I'd be a great cheerleader, especially with my many years of dance and gymnastics training!" Her eyes sparked with mischief. "Look at my enthusiasm!"

Quinn chuckled, before closing her locker. Who knew Berry could be funny? "Let's go, Crazy Face."

\o/

Rachel crawled into the car, and smiled. "Let's try my house this time, Quinn. I left some of my chemistry notes there that I'll be needing, so we might as well just go there." Quinn nodded... that made sense. Rachel's place was on the way, anyway.

Quinn started her car, and Rachel immediately reached over to turn on the radio, flipping through stations as Quinn pulled out of the parking lot. "I love this song!" Rachel crowed, before humming along happily. Quinn was surprised... Rachel had settled on jazz, of all things.

She liked smooth jazz for the most part, but not... classic jazz, which they were stuck on. Quinn tried quite hard to not be bothered by the music from her speakers, but after a couple minutes, she just couldn't take it anymore. At the next stop light, she reached over and changed the radio station to the college radio, and Rachel pouted. "Look, we're almost at your house anyway. And I'm driving... Try to sing along or something. There's always some weird indie stuff on after school..."

Rachel perked up, grinning. A generic indie rock song started playing, and, strangely enough, Rachel could hum along after a while, despite Quinn never having even heard of the band before. She was impressed. "Are there any songs you don't know?"

Rachel nodded, smiling smugly. "It's not about whether I know the songs... most music today is very generic, and follows the same general melody pattern. If you're as inundated with music as I am, it's pretty easy to guess what the composer's going to go through to next. It's all pretty easy." She sighed, leaning back, and, surprisingly enough, Quinn found herself quite interested in what Rachel was saying. "Now, jazz... classical, they don't do that so much, which is probably why I enjoy them a little more. Jazz has the whole improvisation aspect to the music, and it's always hard to follow along with them... Classical is just... yeah. Mindblowing." She closed her eyes, smiling.

Quinn glanced over at Rachel before turning her eyes back onto the road. "I always pegged you for a Broadway kinda gal."

Rachel chuckled. "Most of you would, but my musical tastes far exceed that of just show tunes. While Barbra Streisand is my idol, there is more to me than just show choir. I press Broadway songs in Glee because that's what we are: a show choir." Quinn nodded, smiling. Rachel paused to collect her thoughts, before plowing onwards. "For example, Muse? Their music is delightfully alternative, but I really appreciate how they blend all the different music genres, especially their use of classical music and instruments."

"Muse?" Quinn was shocked. Rachel Berry liked Muse?

"You don't know Muse?" Rachel seemed to be even more shocked than Quinn.

"No! No, I... I love Muse!" Quinn looked a little sheepish. "Just... don't tell anyone."

Rachel smirked. "Guilty pleasure of yours?"

Quinn nodded, face a little red. "I used to play the piano, so this one time, when I was at Puck's, he had a Muse CD in, and.. well, United States of Eurasia started playing, and when it just segued into Chopin's Nocturne in E Flat Minor so effortlessly and beautifully, I was blown away..." Quinn pulled into a stop in front Rachel's house, and turned to see Rachel completely gobsmacked. "What?"

"You know Chopin!" Silence reigned after Rachel's exclamation.

Quinn finally snorted, then laughed, doubling over her gear shift to pat Rachel's shoulder in amusement. Rachel huffed a little, but after a while, her face turned up into a small grin as well.

"Any... Oh, that was good, Manhands. Any self-respecting pianist knows about Chopin's Nocturne," Quinn said, chuckling. She opened her car door. "Come on, are we going to get this done or what?" Rachel scrambled out quickly, and they walked to Rachel's door.

"For the record, RuPaul?" Rachel looked up at her, eyebrow cocked. "I still hate you, even if we have similar musical tastes." The brunette's nose scrunched up slightly, but she shrugged, and opened the door.

\o/

"Sit." Rachel pointed at her desk chair. "Back to me." They had attempted to do their chemistry, but Rachel could tell that Quinn was much too excited about the pending massage to actually get anything done, so she put a stop to their work. Quinn smiled, moving into position.

"So..." she turned her head as Rachel as the brunette moved to stand behind her. Rachel grabbed her head, turning it back away from her, and started rubbing her shoulders soothingly.

"Hmm?" Rachel pressed slightly harder, moving towards her neck. Quinn groaned and relaxed, feeling the tension just flow away as Rachel continued her ministrations. "You didn't listen to me about the hair drying thing." With Rachel's hand working magic on her (unknowingly stiff) neck, Quinn didn't shake her head, opting to vocalize her answer. "Your neck and shoulders are just going to continue being sore if you don't dry your hair, you know." Rachel's hand moved up her neck to the cavity behind her ears and pushed in, causing Quinn to let out a drawn out moan. Rachel continued to massage there, until Quinn's head lolled forward, completely relaxed.

"Sorry," she finally mumbled. Rachel chuckled slightly, moving her hand back down to the blonde's back, rubbing neat circles that caused Quinn to completely slump over the back of the chair.

"Should I work on your knots today? Or should we wait til next time?" Rachel's thumbs pushed into Quinn's lower back and she whimpered.

"God, that hurts so good..." she panted, her eyes closing in bliss. "I don't, I can't..." Rachel hit a particularly sensitive spot, and she let out a quiet "Oh, God!"

"Next time, then." Rachel smiled at having left the cheerleader breathless, and continued massaging her back.. "But I must inform you that massage tables are padded and made for people to lie down on for a reason. Next time, I think it would greatly benefit your experience, and my back as well, if we take this endeavor to the bed."  
"But..."  
"Fabray. Bed. Now." Quinn stiffened up completely, and Rachel's eyebrow raised, amused. She softly squeezed Quinn's shoulders, then stepped back. " Never mind... Well... I guess we're done for the day. I'll get you in my bed at some point, Fabray." She walked back over to the floor, where they'd been sitting to work on their chemistry. "So... about this carbon molecular arrangement business. Want to explain this to me?"

"The allotropes?" Quin slid out of the chair, still slightly boneless from the massage, and knee-walked over to where Rachel was sitting.

"Yeah, those. I get that there's, uh, graphite and diamonds or whatever, but why do I have to know what they look like?"

They spent the rest of the afternoon going over chemistry, until Quinn left for home, after getting a call from her mother about supper.

\o/

Somehow, the two of them ended up as lab partners a couple days later. Quinn had watched, amused, as Rachel carefully put the powdered materials on paper towels, then walked slowly to their station.

"There. I got the yellow smelly thing, and that black powdery thing. Now, uh, did you get the sparky thingy and the burny liquid stuff?"

"Yes, I got all those thingies, and do you actually suck at chemistry this much?" Quinn smirked, and Rachel blushed, nodding.

"I have no idea why I would want to take chemistry in the first place... I'm going to be on Broadway! Chemistry isn't necessary for my future! Anyway, I may need your assistance on the lab write up as well." She looked around, and leaned forward, dropping her voice to a whisper. "Tonight? My place? The usual?" Quinn nodded.

"I have Cheerios practice today, but if you wait around, I'll drive."

\o/

Quinn was lounging around in shorts and a loose t-shirt on Rachel's floor when Rachel groaned from her place at her laptop. "I don't get it!"

"Wanna take a break?"

"That would be lovely, yes." Getting out of her chair, she moved to her bed, and patted the covers.

"I'm not lying down on your bed, Berry."

"I don't expect you to. Come here." Quinn moved reluctantly, but ended up perched on the side of Rachel's bed. Rachel moved to kneel behind her.

"You know, you keep breaking my mental image of you."

"How so?" Rachel's hands moved slowly down Quinn's spine, kneading and pressing, until Quinn relaxed, shifting backwards on the bed.

"Well, for one- oh God, ya, right there. Well, your room isn't pink and sparkly..."

"It's yellow, yes. I don't see how you think I'd like pink so much, though."

"Your wardrobe, Berry." She paused, hissing when Rachel dug in slightly deeper. "You have an electric guitar, which is wicked cool. Do you play?"

Rachel paused, amused. "I used to, but then I decided that I wasn't made for the rocker image." She moved her hands up to Quinn's shoulders, massaging gently. "Anyway, I'm going to work on your knots now." Rachel pushed deep into Quinn's shoulder, causing her to flinch. "This would be so much better if you were lying down."

"Not a chance, man ha-Berry," Quinn hissed out through gritted teeth, before gasping when Rachel found a particularly tight knot. "Oh, God!"

"Sorry..." Quinn could almost see Rachel's apologetic face, but the brunette didn't stop kneading and working Quinn's knots. "These are only here because you don't dry your hair. Well, they're only this bad because of that." Quinn exhaled slowly, controlling her breathing. "Will you consider my idea now?"

"What-" A gasp. "-idea?" Quinn whimpered. God, it was like fire coursing through her shoulder, down her arm, and up her neck. The burning... she couldn't bring herself to think of anything besides the pain. Rachel reached around, placing one hand on top of Quinn's clenched hands in her lap, squeezing lightly.

"Drying your hair." Quinn went to laugh, but it came out as a weak ragged whimper. "Also, I'm sorry this has to hurt. It's the only way to get knots out effectively..." Quinn closed her eyes tightly. "Just... try to relax."

Quinn lasted only five more minutes before Rachel stopped kneading her shoulder. "Give it a bit," she said, moving back to her desk. Quinn collapsed back onto the bed, breathing heavily.

By the time Quinn left that night, she was feeling much better.

\o/

That weekend, Rachel walked up her driveway after dance class, smirking at the familiar car parked in front of her house. She opened the door, singing out a greeting, to be greeted with the slightly awkward scene of Quinn, dressed casually, sitting rigidly on her couch, a cup of mango nectar sitting in front of her, making awkward small talk with her fathers. An exaggerated, "Oh! Quinn! I didn't realize you were here!" earned her a glare from the blonde.

Her father, Abraham, bolted up, sweeping her into a tight hug. "Sweetie! How was dance practice?" She laughed as he spun her around; God, she loved her dads. "I'm sure it was wonderful!" He stopped her, and flourished his hand towards the blonde on the couch. "This fine young lady has come to ask your hand in marriage!"

Quinn was struck dumb, eyes wide and bewildered, and Rachel couldn't help but laugh internally, thanking her father for his obviously over-dramatic tendencies. "Oh, daddy, do tell me you said yes! Daddy!" Her bags came crashing down as she grasped enthusiastically at his clothing. "I'll do anything for you to say yes, father!" She snuck a glance over to Peter, her other father, as he worked incredibly hard to disguise his amusement behind a stern expression. She rushed over, kneeling in front of him, grasping his knees. "Papa! Wouldn't it just be wonderful! Can you imagine?" He burst out laughing, and with that, all three Berrys collapsed in a fit of giggles, Quinn letting out a confused whimper as her eyes flicked between the three.

"Uh... what?"

Peter, still chortling, told Rachel that Quinn had come over to work on their lab report. 'Amongst other things,' she thought to herself, but she dragged Quinn up, and dragged the blonde up to her room, Quinn barely having time to grab her bag.

"All three of you were..." Quinn shook her head. "I'm so confused."

"Sorry, Daddy gets excited about guests... since we don't get many, being gay and unpopular and all." She plopped her bag down by the closet.

"I see where you get your dramatic side from..."

Rachel grabbed some casual clothing from her closet, and shrugged. "That's true, yes. Anyway, I need to shower, but I'll be back as soon as I can. Feel free to start on the lab report, or look around the room. Actually, no. But, if you're really bored, you can read something from my bookshelf, if you'd like. Just not my playbills, which are on the bottom shelf, or the music score, which is the shelf above that one." She turned gracefully, and walked off, leaving Quinn to her own devices.

\o/

Twenty minutes saw Rachel coming back in, a towel wrapped around her head and a hair dryer in her hands. She plugged it in near the door, dropped the towel, and started blow drying her hair right there in the entrance. Quinn, propping herself up on her elbows, looked at her like she was insane from her spot on the bed. "This is what you're supposed to do with this electrical device, Quinn! It's called a hair dryer!" Rachel almost had to yell to be heard over the hair dryer. Quinn made a show of rolling her eyes, then flopping back down onto her stomach to read.

After ensuring that her hair was more than sufficiently dry, she left the rest to dry naturally. "What're you reading?" Quinn held up the lab outline, smirking. "Well, aren't you Miss Studious today! It's not due til next Wednesday!"

Quinn raised an eyebrow. "I'm obviously not just here for the report... but I figured, since you were going to be showering, and I had to pretend to do work, I might as well actually do work." She turned, swinging her feet over the side of the bed and sitting up stiffly. "I woke up with a horrid crick in my back today... I was hoping you could help me out."

"Why didn't you call me?"

Quinn rubbed her arms, slightly embarrassed. "I don't have your number..."

Rachel shook her head and rolled her eyes, huffing a sigh. "You only want me for my body, anyway." Quinn barked out a laugh, and Rachel pushed her lightly to lie back on her bed. "On your stomach, Quinn." Quinn got back into her original position, and Rachel pulled one of her pillows over, propping it under Quinn's forehead so that Quinn had room to breathe while lying face-down on her comforter.

Rachel moved to straddle Quinn's back, but when Quinn felt her perched on her back, she pushed herself abruptly. "No, no way, Manhands. You're not straddling my back, no way, no how." Rachel quickly clambered off the bed and knelt directly beside the cheerleader.

"Where did it hurt?" Quinn weakly reached over to somewhere mid-back, poking at her right side. "Ah, well then. Shift over a little, to the edge of the bed." Quinn complied, and when Rachel gently started rubbing around the bothered area, Quinn sighed, relaxing. "Since it actually hurt beforehand, I need you to be as vocal as possible. I need to know if I'm hurting you or if it's helping." Rachel pushed a little harder, and Quinn simply moaned, her voice muffled by the bed.

"I must've slept funny on it," she said, exhaling loudly as Rachel's hands massaged her stiff back.

"That happens..." Rachel commiserated, using the heels of her hand to push up Quinn's back.

"Oh, God," Quinn gasped, feeling a beautiful jolt of pain burn in her back. "Right there." Rachel continued where she was, using her whole arm to knead the sore muscles. The weird pleasurable pain that Quinn was feeling grew, continuing and becoming constant. Her eyes drooped shut as she let out the occasional whimper or moan, encouraging Rachel to continue. A couple minutes later, Rachel sat back on her heels, picking up the assignment sheet that had dropped from Quinn's limp hands at some point, reading it over. She walked over to her desk and sat down, writing down on a single piece of loose leaf some general ideas on how to answer the questions. She'd run them by Quinn when she woke up from her massage-induced nap.

\o/

A knock on the door shook Quinn from her nap, and she looked over at the offending sound to see Rachel open her door to speak softly with her dad (which one, Quinn wasn't sure). Rachel glanced over at Quinn, and smiled. "Are you staying for supper? We're getting Chinese."

Quinn blinked lethargically, and simply nodded, before flopping over onto her back. It was completely better now, and it was still buzzing pleasurably where Rachel had been working earlier. She found it kind of odd that Rachel was capable of touching her at all, since she wasn't usually very good with people touching her in the slightest. Whatever. She shook it off, refusing to think about it.

"Do you have to tell your mother where you are?"

Quinn let out a slight laugh. "No, but can you pass me my phone, anyway? It's, uh, in the front pocket of my purse." When Rachel passed it to her, she grabbed Rachel's wrist, and pulled her to sit on the bed. She looked into Rachel's eyes, completely sincere. "Thank you. Really."

Rachel didn't dare blink; she could barely breathe. "It's... really no problem, Quinn." Quinn let go, then flipped open her phone.

"Now, so that I don't have to surprise your family with random visits, what's your number?" After putting Rachel into her phone, she texted the girl. "There, now we both have each others' numbers."

Rachel chuckled. "What do you have me saved as?" She reached for Quinn's phone. "Is it Manhands? Treasure Trail? RuPaul? Tranny? Your nicknames have always been amusing to me, because I really don't know where they come from..."

Quinn flushed slightly in shame. "No... you're Rachel. Rachel Berry." She turned the phone so that Rachel could see. Rachel let out a little gasp; Quinn wasn't lying. "I... I'm sorry." She had no idea where this feeling of regret was coming from, and she just felt like she had to apologize. Rachel whipped her head over from staring at the screen to stare at Quinn, astounded. The diva's brown eyes bore into Quinn's, searching for any insincerity. Like before, when Quinn had thanked her, she could see none.

"But... you hate me." Rachel's voice came out slightly strangled, as if she was in awe.

Quinn shook her head slowly. "I... I don't hate you, Rachel. Not anymore."

_TBC_

_

* * *

_

**A/N: **So sorry for the extremely long update wait. Being in three studio courses means you are scrambling to finish assignments creatively, so I apparently killed off my muse for, like, 3 weeks after finals. Gah. Thanks to the anons and non-anons on tumblr and AIM for pushing me to finish this chapter! I'm hoping it's still... what you're looking for.

Also, just in case you have never gotten knots worked on, it HURTS like a bitch. I've, like, been known to stop big hulking footbally guys by poking at spots that are known to have knots. Not that I ever actually had to fight or whatever, but they were being disagreeable, and I poked them... So getting them OUT requires excess massaging, and actually pushing hard on this overly painful spot. It doesn't even actually have to be hard. And it burns. It definitely feels a bajillion times better afterwards, but you have to get to that point first.  
If you have a low pain tolerance, I'd suggest against getting that done. Stick to, like, light massaging.

**A/N2:** I don't post on fanfiction until I've had things edited by Batman, and I don't send things to Batman as frequently as I should so... I'd like to apologize AGAIN for the uber long wait...


	3. On the bed

_**A/N:** This is me apologizing for taking forever to write this. I hope this was worth the wait! Also, it's shorter..._

* * *

"You don't hate me?" Rachel gaped at Quinn, eyes wide in shock.

Quinn's eyebrows furrowed as she tried to explain herself. "I mean, I still don't like you, and it's not like we're buddy-buddy or whatever, but... uh, I don't hate you. It's more like... I'm ambivalent, or something. Like, not everything makes me want to punch you in the face."

Rachel just grinned. "I'm okay with being merely acquaintances. If it's okay with you, I'd like to hug you now." She tugged on Quinn's hand, pulling her up onto her feet. Quinn's body shrank away from Rachel's slightly, seeming to draw in on itself.

"Hugging is... uh, kind of a friend-y thing to do, isn't it?" Rachel's grin faltered at the blonde's words.

"Right. Uh... that's true. Sorry." Rachel let go of Quinn's hands, which, to Quinn's horror, were incredibly clammy, and walked over to her desk. "So while you were napping, I was brainstorming about what we'll have to do for the lab write-up." She picked up her notebook, handing it to Quinn. "I'm not sure if I'm right, so... what do you think?"

Quinn scanned it, nodding for most of it, and grimacing once or twice at some of Rachel's blatant errors. "You seem to have the right idea on most of these questions, but you used the wrong equation on this one." She turned the book around, pointing at an equation Rachel had circled and drawn little stars around in pen. "That one... is for physics, not chemistry."

"Really?" Quinn nodded as Rachel scribbled out the 'F=ma', cheeks tinged with pink. "That was embarrassing. I'm not even taking physics."

Quinn laughed, amused. "How did you even know that then?" Rachel looked away. "Never mind that. If I only want you for your body, you only want me around for my mind."

"Not only that," flew out of Rachel's mouth, and a look of mortification flitted quickly across her face before she schooled her expression.

"Oh?" Quinn's eyebrow shot up her forehead, until Rachel smirked, cheeks still slightly pink.

"I want you for your car, too. Obviously."

Quinn chuckled mirthfully. "You're a goof. Let's do this lab thing. And I hope you guys ordered meat, I'm quite the carnivore."

* * *

Quinn wriggled in her seat in history, too bored to pay attention. The substitute, who wasn't Holly Holliday, was a horrible teacher. He was also going over a lesson from a week ago, so Quinn had nothing to do. Suddenly, her cell phone vibrated. She sneaked it under her book, and saw that she had a new message.

_Hey, are you still free for Chem stuff tonight? - RB*_

Quinn's thumbs flew over her keypad, and she shot a message back at the diva.

___Ya, def. U texting in class? U rebel! & real classy, R, w/ the star... - Q_

A couple minutes later, her cell phone vibrated again, startling her pen from where she was trying to balance it on her upper lip. It clattered onto the desk in front of her.

___"You alright, miss..." The substitute scanned his seating plan quickly. "Fabray?"_

"Yeah, fine." She waved her hand dismissively. "Carry on." The class snickered, and the sub just huffed before continuing the class.

_____I'm on free. Also, stars are my thing. - RB*_

_______Perfectly aware. I'm in history, and the sub sucks. I'm sooooo bored. Entertain me. - Q_

Quinn turned her attention back to the board, eyes half-hooded in boredom. She fought the urge to slide forward and slouch in her chair. Coach Sylvester would probably find out somehow and force her to run extra laps while yelling at her through the bullhorn. Besides, it wasn't very proper for a lady to sit like that.

_________Paying attention is incredibly important, Quinn! You should pay close attention since there may be something that you can use at some time in your life -RB*_

_Quinn hid a chuckle behind a small cough. Santana, upon hearing it, threw a piercing glance at her, eyebrows furrowed, before smirking at her. They rolled her eyes and they shared a silent conversation, and before long, the class was about to end. Quinn quickly tapped out a late response before rushing off to her next class._

___________Doubt it, but w/e. Meet me my car 4 - Q_

* * *

"So while most Copper oxides burn a beautiful dark green, Copper one compounds-"

Rachel groaned halfway through Quinn's sentence, slumping forward in defeat. "They're both copper, why would they be different?"

Quinn chuckled, shrugging. "Break time? Maybe it'll stick after a bit of a breather."

Rachel perked up immediately. "You just want a massage," she teased. She smirked, jumping up. Quinn laughed as Rachel dragged her towards the bed.

"Whatever, you like it, Ma-Berry." Rachel gestured for Quinn to lay down, and then propped her head up with a pillow after tugging her T-shirt down.

"I think it would be beneficial to your experience if you allowed me to give both sides of your back equal pressure from above. This can only be achieved if I sit equidistant from both the left and the right side of the body, thus meaning I should be somewhere in the middle. So if you'd be so kind as to allow me to be astride your back, that would be for your benefit as well as mine." Quinn turned her head to watch as Rachel continued with her rant, eyes slightly wider in trepidation. "I understand that you have reservations against the aspect of my touching your back or skin or something, but I assure you that this is for the best, and I will keep my hands in safe places and I'll let you know where I'm going so you won't have to worry about anything inappropriate." Rachel took time to breathe, and Quinn to process.

"How would straddling my back help you, RuPaul?" They both winced at her biting tone, but Rachel's eyes were understanding. Quinn felt something twist in her gut as Rachel knelt beside the bed and patted her clothed shoulder. "Sorry... I didn't want to call you that."

"I understand." Rachel squeezed Quinn's shoulder lightly for emphasis. "It's just that, if I straddle your back, I don't have to lean quite as much over your body, which then relieves my back of stress. Also, pushing from above allows me to use gravity in my favor, which means that not only will I be pushing, but gravity will, in a sense, be pushing my body weight, no matter how slight, onto your muscles as well. This will allow me to use less force over all, which will allow the massage to continue for quite a bit longer than before."

"How is it you don't understand chemistry, Berry?" Rachel blushed and sputtered at Quinn's words, but took them as an okay to climb onto the bed. As the diva's body settled onto her lower back, Quinn tensed, but tried to force herself to relax. Rachel wasn't going to do anything. It was just a massage... It's not like Rachel was going to get her back for every bad thing she'd ever done to her, now that she was defenseless and at her mercy...

The sudden appearance of Rachel's hands on her shoulders made Quinn flinch slightly, and her heart dropped with guilt. "Relax, Quinn, you're safe with me." Quinn's eyes widened, because Rachel had just... she just... Rachel rubbed lightly in soothing motions, waiting for Quinn to relax. When that didn't happen for several minutes, she sighed and squeezed Quinn's shoulders tightly. "I can't massage you if you're not relaxing, so I'll just..." She moved to get off of the blonde. "And maybe we can get somewhere with this massage thing today."

"No, no Rachel, I can... relax... I think." Rachel paused, half off the cheerleader, and looked down at Quinn, noting her furrowed brow and look of general discomfort.

"That," Rachel said, poking the crease in Quinn's forehead, "doesn't look very relaxed. It's fine. I'll just get back off, and we'll do it the way it was before." Quinn looked like she was going to insist, but Rachel cut her off before she was able to say anything, climbing off of the girl in the process. "The faster the massage, the faster we can get back to... blue copper fire or something or other."

Quinn tried her hardest not to look overly relieved that Rachel wasn't on top of her anymore, but caught Rachel's slightly hurt look. Obviously she hadn't been successful. The pang of guilt Quinn felt was slightly surprising, but then Rachel's hands were on her, and she didn't have it in her to care anymore.

* * *

Three more sessions passed in which Rachel ended up climbing onto, then off of Quinn. Having caught Rachel's flicker of despondence every time, Quinn was officially feeling quite guilty. The arguments the brunette put up each time as to why it would be better for the both of them if she were to straddle Quinn were quite logical, and Quinn was determined this time to power through it.

As Rachel threw her leg over Quinn's back for the umpteenth time, Quinn tried making small talk, hoping to distract herself from the steady weight that settled onto her back. "So Coach says I've gotten a little more flexible." Her voice was slightly muffled by the pillow, she found. Rachel made a soft questioning sound as she rubbed soothing circles on Quinn's back. "I guess I have you to thank, right?"

Rachel nodded, ignoring the slight waver in Quinn's voice, then realized that Quinn wasn't able to see her actions. "Yes, I guess you do." She smiled, noting how Quinn was trying so hard to stay relaxed.

Leaning forward, she rested the heels of her palms on the curve of Quinn neck, massaging gently. Quinn moaned softly, and her shoulders instinctively relaxed. Rachel softly sat back as she moved slightly lower to Quinn's shoulder. She squeezed, and Quinn's appreciative groan grew louder. Rachel smiled, continuing to rub that same area.

"Don't... don't move. It feels so good..." Quinn groaned. "God, I love your hands." Her eyes fluttered closed as Rachel continued to work her shoulders, working the ache out. A while later, Rachel's hands slowly worked their way down her back, kneading and massaging her kinks out.

"Oh, God, Rachel!"

At about midback, Rachel moved to sit on Quinn's thighs. The momentary instinctive tensing that Quinn experienced at feeling that weight shift was banished as Rachel continued to work her way down Quinn's back. Rachel's hands kneaded Quinn's sides, turning Quinn into a puddle of goo.

All of a sudden, Rachel tugged on Quinn's shirt. Quinn turned her head to ask what Rachel was doing, but Rachel beat her to it. "Your shirt bunched up. I just put it back into position."

"Oh, uh, thanks."

Rachel didn't respond, choosing to pound lightly up and down Quinn's back with loose fists. Quinn hummed in gratitude, smiling into the pillow her head rested on. "Have I ever told you that you're awesome? Oh, hey! I sound like a boat again!" The steady rhythmic pounding faltered slightly, then continued as if nothing had occurred.

"No... but thank you. I like to think that as well." Quinn could hear the smile in Rachel's voice. "Though it's nice to finally have someone else acknowledge the fact that I am, as you said, awesome." Quinn chuckled, and they fell into a comfortable silence, broken only by the sound of Rachel pounding on Quinn, muffled slightly by the blonde's T-shirt, and Quinn's bemused humming.

Rachel switched to gliding her hands up and down Quinn's back. All the way up her spine to her neck, then down her sides, repeatedly, all while applying constant steady pressure. Quinn turned her head slightly and murmured in appreciation, the softer tactic a nice change to soothe the warm pleasurable fire she had in her back.

"How's this feeling, by the way?"

Quinn smiled contentedly at Rachel's query, knowing she could see it. "Marvelous," she drawled lazily.

Rachel laughed. "I'm glad. It's so much better this way, isn't it?" Quinn purred in agreement as Rachel worked her way slowly back up to Quinn's shoulders, shifting to once again sit on Quinn's lower back. Several minutes passed, and then Rachel climbed off the boneless Quinn. Quinn rolled over onto her back and splayed her arms out on Rachel's bed, completely content.

"You all right there?" Quinn grunted in agreement, eyes closed. "Are you going to sleep on me?" There was sound indicating the negative, which was followed by a small silence.

A bit later, when the bliss had faded slightly, Quinn rolled off of Rachel's bed and collected her bags to leave. Rachel looked up from her essay that she had been writing, getting up to walk the blonde to her front door. Before they left Rachel's room, however, Quinn looked back at the diva. "I still dislike you, Rachel Berry, even if you're awesome. Just for the record."

Rachel chuckled. "I wouldn't have it any other way, Fabray." She rolled her eyes. "Now go, I have to write this essay, then my fans await on MySpace." She ushered the blonde out her door, and down the stairs. Rachel's fathers looked up from the den as they passed and called out a goodbye, which she returned.

"I'm serious about still disliking you, Berry."

Rachel sighed. "Goodbye, Quinn. Have a nice afternoon, and I'll see you on Monday." Rachel closed her door, shaking her head, before returning to her room. Hamlet and his odious soliloquy on melting flesh couldn't be postponed very much longer.


	4. What Not To Wear

**Title: **I can make you feel real good (4/?)  
**Rating:** PG (this one) / NC-17 (whole fic)  
**Length:** 2000+  
**Spoilers: **Duets? Let's just say NBK...  
**Summary:** Based on this prompt:  
_Quinn and Rachel not quite friends - Quinn finishes cheerleading practice one day with very tight muscles. Rachel gives her a surprisingly amazing massage. Quinn then seeks Rachel out for massages which get more and more heated._  
**Pairings:**Eventual Faberry, with mentions of Fabrevans and Finchel

**A/N:**GUYS GUYS GUYS! Exciting news! I'm straying from the chapter outline, which means that change is afoot, and things could begin progressing slightly faster (or slower) depending on what happens. Just thought I'd put that out there.

Quinn was fine with the straddling. She really was. Since she was left boneless and content after the first time, she'd let Rachel straddle her back every time she went there for a massage. She was consistently left boneless and content after every massage thereafter, and it was easier to relax around Rachel every time.

But this time, as Rachel was kneading her lower back, there was a brush of skin on skin contact. She involuntarily seized up, and she knew Rachel felt it too.

"Whoa, Quinn..." She felt Rachel tug the shirt back down. "Sorry, I didn't notice your shirt had bunched up."

"Oh, no, it's okay. It's fine. I just... I dunno." There was a sigh from Rachel, which made Quinn wince. "Keep going?"

"If you can relax again, sure, I'll keep going." Rachel rubbed lightly on Quinn's back, waiting for her to calm down. Quinn willed her pounding heart to relax, but she only found her breaths getting shallower and faster.

Rachel just climbed off of the blonde. "Ok, no. You're just... no. I can't help you if you're getting tense. Seriously, Quinn. Relax or something!"

"Sorry... I just... don't really..." Quinn paused as she sat up, unsure as to how to explain herself.

"Hmmm?" Rachel dipped her head as she folded her arms across her chest. There was a sarcastically smug look on her face, but Quinn saw hurt in her eyes.

"Nothing..." Quinn bit her lip, trying to look anywhere but Rachel.

Rachel rolled her eyes and spun around, grabbing her things. "Well, that seems to be it for the evening. I'd very much appreciate it if you could drive me home, Fabray."

"What about Chem?" They had an assignment due the next day, and had only taken a small break from it for the massage... They were very nearly done, but Rachel had needed a mental break from it all.

"The internet is a marvelous resource; I had been using it for quite a while before we came upon this agreement, and I'm sure I can do so again. Now if you could drive me home?" Quinn pursed her lips together tightly and grabbed her keys and jacket. She wasn't sure why Rachel's scowl was bothering her so much.

\o/

Quinn's car idled on the street as she waited for Rachel to get out and walk up the drive to her house. Instead, however, Rachel was sitting silently in the passenger seat, obviously deep in thought, as she had been the whole tense ride over. Almost ironically, light rain had started up partway through the drive over.

"Berry... we're here." Rachel's eyes flicked over to Quinn before she stared ahead again.

"I'm quite aware, thank you, Fabray." Her hand shot over to the key, turning off the ignition, before she turned to look Quinn in the eye. "But we need to talk."

Quinn looked at Rachel quizzically. "About?"

Rachel's jaw hardened into a deeper scowl. "I do you favors by giving you massages, correct?" Quinn nodded slowly, confused. "Well, it's an equal exchange, really, with the schoolwork help and the drives, but I was doing well enough on my own before..." Rachel shook her head. "That's not what's the matter, though. Why is it so difficult for you to relax around me? It's been over a month, Quinn, and you still can't relax around me! Why can't I touch you?"

Quinn sucked in a slow breath, suddenly nervous.

"Is it because I have manhands? Or, I don't know, I'm a freak with freak germs that will soak into the perfection that is you and leave you freakishly maimed in your social life? Why can't we be friends, and hang out without the pretense of schoolwork and massages, or without you constantly telling me you dislike my existence? It'd be nice to be appreciated..." Rachel looked out the car window. "I'm sorry, it's just... I don't know. You're the closest thing I have to a friend, Quinn, but it's obvious you don't like me at all." She sighed, and quickly dabbed her eyes on her sleeve. "I just get lonely sometimes, you know?"

Quinn sat silently as Rachel watched the rain, waiting for her to respond. She had no idea how she was supposed to respond to that, really. Rachel moved to leave, shaking her head and muttering under her breath. The sound of the door opening caused Quinn to act.

"It's not just you." The words left Quinn's mouth before she even knew she was going to speak, but her words were swallowed by the slamming of the door. Rachel was already outside, running in to avoid getting too wet from the rain.

\o/

Quinn had an inkling that something was up with Rachel during chemistry class, when she had spoke in terse sentences, and had never actually looked her in the eye, let alone in her direction. She actually figured it out when Rachel hadn't even stopped to say hello in Glee, like she had for the last month. Instead, the diva had sat off in the corner, staring out at the piano with a sad, contemplative expression on her face.

If the diva wasn't coming to her, she'd go to the diva, then. She supposed there was some explaining to do, after all. Before she could go to Rachel, however, Santana walked in with Brittany.

"Bitch." Santana smirked, reaching out to push Quinn's shoulder provocatively.

"Whore." Quinn rolled her eyes, completely unamused. The rest of the club ignored the exchange, the odd greeting something they had gotten used to after the initial cat-fight at the beginning of the school year. By now, the words no longer meant anything to them besides general pleasantries.

Their daily ritual done, the two cheerleaders sat flanking Brittany, who smiled and held out her pinky for Santana. Quinn looked behind her at Rachel, who pointedly turned her head away.

Santana reached behind Brittany to tap on the head cheerleader's shoulder. "Q. Q! What's up with the midget? Do you need me to do something?"

"She's not a midget," was the reply, and when Quinn realized what she'd said, she shook her head. Santana raised an eyebrow, and Brittany tilted her head to the side, confused.

"Are we talking about Rachel?" Quinn nodded slowly. Brittany turned to Santana, "Quinn's right. Rachel's not something you can add to our website, San. She's not computer enough for that."

Before either of the cheerleaders could voice their confusion, Mr. Schuester walked into the room. Quinn watched as he walked up to the board, marker in hand, ready to give a new assignment.

Her phone buzzed lightly, and she pulled it out.

_I'm sorry for my incredibly indecent behavior yesterday. Could I talk to you after school today? I know you have practice, so... - RB* P.S. Did Brittany mean widget?_

Quinn looked back at the brunette and nodded twice stealthily. She noticed that Rachel's fleeting smile didn't reach her eyes.

\o/

Santana sidled up to Quinn just as she was shedding her top in the locker room, placing her hand on the small of Quinn's bare back to announce her presence. The blonde twisted away from the contact with a growl. "Don't touch me, S. I keep telling you that."

Santana's hand dropped like a hot brick. "Right. Sorry. Forgot. Like, we haven't talked properly for a long time, so how was I supposed to know it hadn't changed?" She smirked slightly, Quinn turning to glare at her. "Who keeps texting you, by the way?"

"It doesn't matter," Quinn said, slightly defensive.

Santana raised an eyebrow. "Does Sam know?"

"I'm not cheating on him, it that's what you're trying to say." Quinn closed her locker door and turned around to face the Latina. "I'm pretty sure I learned my lesson the first time, when I got pregnant."

"That... wasn't what I was asking, but, okay." Santana nodded. An odd smile spread across her face. "Britt misses you, you know. We haven't had a girls' night for a while."

Quinn nodded. She'd missed them too. It was about time to remedy that.

\o/

She saw Rachel leaning on the hood of her car and called out a greeting.

"Oh, hello, Quinn." Rachel stood and straightened her clothes in nervousness. "I... apologize for yesterday. It was completely out of line, and I really shouldn't have said all those things." A strained smile, and Quinn was officially feeling like a horrible person. "Besides, it's not like a month or so can change years of animosity between us. If you so wish it, I'll be sure to stay out of your way in the future." The poorly hidden hope in Rachel's eyes shocked Quinn, and she took a deep breath.

"It's... not you. It's me." Rachel's eyebrows rose as she smirked, and Quinn winced when she realized what she'd said.

"Care to elucidate me on the meaning of this overly cliche statement in this circumstance? Isn't it usually used in some form of breakup?"

Quinn bit back a nervous giggle, rubbing her arms. "I... have never told anyone this, but I'm not all that fond of physical... contact." Rachel's mouth fell open into a small O. "My mom and dad never really..." Quinn mimed hugging, clearly uncomfortable with her admission. "...So when people do... that... it's awkward. For me, at least."

"That would explain a lot, actually." Rachel nodded understandingly. "Well, if that's the case, I'll leave you alone from now on, then, I guess. I just hope that we'll be able to remain civil in the future?"

"No!" Quinn's eyes widened at her exclamation. "I mean, I want you to touch me..." Rachel gawked at her. "That came out wrong. I have a lot less of a problem if you're the one touching me then if, say, Sam or Santana touched me." Quinn bit her lip, slightly frustrated at how nervous she was. Quinn Fabray didn't _do_nervous.

Rachel giggled softly. "It sounds dirty no matter how you say it."

Quinn rolled her eyes, exasperated. "So... are we good?"

Rachel stilled, her face serious. "That depends entirely on whether you think we are."

"We're good. I like it when you give me massages. It's nice." Quinn walked around Rachel, unlocking her door. "Do you need a ride, Berry?" Rachel smiled gratefully, sliding in beside Quinn in the passenger seat as Quinn turned the ignition.

As per their usual drives, Quinn drove carefully as Rachel fiddled with the radio stations, settling on some random soft rock station. The drive passed quickly, and Quinn couldn't help but relax at the familiarity of it. There was something niggling in the back of her head from yesterday, but it didn't hit her until they were parked in Rachel's driveway.

Rachel was halfway out the car door when Quinn turned to her. "You're not a freak, Berry."

Rachel smiled, and Quinn was relieved to see it reach her eyes. "You're not half bad yourself, Fabray." When Quinn made no move to get out of the car, Rachel bit her lip. "You coming up for a bit?"

Quinn shrugged, throwing her car into park.

\o/

"So..."

"Yeah..."

They evidently hadn't really thought anything out. With no pressing schoolwork, and Quinn not really needing a massage, they didn't know what to do together. That left them standing in the foyer, bags on the floor, staring awkwardly at one another.

"Is there anything you'd like to do?"

"Do you have... Scrabble or something?"

Rachel shook her head vehemently. "That is a remarkably unwise suggestion. Not only am I incredibly competitive... well, I'm incredibly competitive. Dad and Daddy stopped buying board games for me when I accused my dolls of cheating at chess at the tender age of three and a half."

Quinn laughed. "That's so... wow. I'd pay to see that!"

"I'm sure fathers dearest have a recording of it hidden away somewhere, but we'll have to negotiate prices later." Grabbing Quinn's sleeve, Rachel led her into the living room, pushing her lightly onto the sofa. "I've decided. We're going to watch a something. What that something will be is entirely up to you, seeing as we have nearly every channel known to man, and I'm sure my eclectic tastes will bore you."

\o/

Rachel was in the kitchen getting snacks when Quinn settled onto "What Not to Wear", sitting back on the overly soft sofa.

"Oh! I love this show!" Quinn's stared at Rachel, in her argyle socks and woolen carousel sweater, as she walked in behind her, and burst out laughing.

"No."

"I'm serious!" Rachel set down the fruit and tortilla chips placing her arms on her waist. "Aren't I the perfect candidate?" Quinn just nodded, still laughing. "If someone cared enough to nominate me for the show, Stacy and Clinton aid me in my clothing choice, and then I could be discovered and thrust onto Broadway, because I will have been on national television. They always have a profile on the people at the beginning, you know."

"Oh God... why didn't I ever know you were this funny?" Quinn attempted to compose herself, shaking her head. Rachel pouted playfully before plunking herself down on the couch beside Quinn and leaning forward for a grape.

"You know, you could nominate me."

Quinn nodded. "I should. But not now... give it a couple years. Hopefully your fashion choices will correct themselves before I have to."

"Not if I want to be on that show, they won't."

"Then... in college, if someone doesn't beat me to it."

Rachel nodded, placated for the time being.

Several minutes passed before Quinn turned to Rachel, clearly bemused. "Does that mean you dress how you do to get on the show?"

Rachel blushed. "Maybe..."

Quinn pushed Rachel's shoulder lightly. "Insane is a good look for you, Berry."

\o/

"Is your mother expecting you home for supper?"

They had moved on from critiquing fashion divas to critiquing music videos, and Quinn was surprised by just how much fun Rachel was outside of school. Time had flown, and before they knew it, the sun was hanging low in the sky.

"Not exactly... but I should be going. It's getting late."

Rachel nodded twice, then jumped up. "Don't go anywhere just yet. I have something..."

Quinn watched Rachel run upstairs, confused, but she soon shook it off as another of Rachel's peculiarities before turning back to whatever top forty song they had been laughing at.

Rachel soon returned with a box of some sort, handing it to Quinn. "I know you still dislike me and all, but I got you a present, or something."

Quinn looked at the box in her hands, not expecting anything at all. "I don't exactly dislike you... and you didn't have to, but thanks for... this."

"I wanted to. In celebration of our first hang out, I guess. I wasn't sure when would be an appropriate time to give this to you." Rachel shrugged, but Quinn knew that this had meant quite a lot to Rachel. "It's a travel hair dryer... cordless even. Since it's evident you don't use one, I thought I'd purchase it for you." Quinn stared. "What you're doing to your shoulders really isn't making my job any easier. This is as much for my benefit as it is yours."

"I... thank you, Rachel. I... didn't even know that they made battery operated hair dryers." Quinn put the box down on the couch before standing and shuffling awkwardly over to Rachel, arms extended.

Rachel angled her head to the side, amused smirk on her face. "What exactly are you doing?"

Quinn narrowed her eyes, glaring at the brunette. "I'm trying to give you a hug, Rachel Berry. Now get over here." Rachel beamed, stepping into the hug. Quinn swallowed before wrapping her arms around Rachel's small frame, patting her back awkwardly.

Feeling Quinn beginning to stiffen, Rachel moved out of the decidedly awkward hug, patting her lightly on the shoulder. "You're welcome, Quinn Fabray. Now go home before your mother gets worried."

Quinn shrugged, walking to the door. "She wouldn't, but okay." The door opened to reveal the most magnificent sunset. "I guess I've reached my Rachel quota for the day anyway, so I'll see you tomorrow." With a smirk and a wink, Quinn stepped out, leaving Rachel leaning on the doorframe as she drove away.

**_A/N: _**_The travel hairdryer actually exists, for the record. It's also incredibly expensive... in that I wouldn't buy a hairdryer for that money._


End file.
